House Rivalry (Gryffindor America x Slytherin Reader)
by The-Dragon-and-the-Gryffin
Summary: As a new student of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you were expecting an enchanted world of magic, spell books, and an explanation of the unknown. What you did NOT expect was an obnoxious, first-year Gryffindor who would turn your already-peculiar life upside-down.
1. Chapter 1

It was yet another day in London, but not just any day. Today was September First, the day Hogwarts - the infamous school of witchcraft and wizardry - opened its gates to new, young wizards and witches. Fidgeting students packed Platform Nine to the brim, bustling about in hopes to find an open seat when the train pulled up.

"Remember now, be good," your mother repeated, your satchel slung over one of her shoulders. "You must uphold the family honor."

"Yes, and remember to do your best," your father added. "Don't go getting into any, uh..." He furrowed his brow, exchanging a helpless glance with his wife.

"Don't go causing trouble," your mother finished. She grinned at your father endearingly.

"Got it," you assured them. "I will uphold the family honor."

"I'm so proud," your father beamed. He pulled the fabric of your hood over your head. "Keep your hood on."

You nodded affirmatively. The cloak felt heavy and comfortable over your shoulders.

"Okay, go on," he said, patting your arm affectionately. "It's almost time!"

"Right." Retrieving your bag from your mother, you kept a guarded hand on your trolley as you melted into the crowd. The chatter of hundreds of students filled the passageways. Your pulse fluttered, though you found it difficult to pinpoint a singular emotion. Were you anxious? Excited? Closing your trembling fingers over your amulet you decided that it was a feeling somewhere in between.

Not too far away, a particular young boy prepared to take his first steps into the world of wizardry.

"Okay, son." A broad man, his father, turned to him. "You ready?"

"Yes, Dad!" The boy rocked on his heels in anticipation, dimples dotting his round cheeks. "What house do you think I'm gonna be in?"

His father chuckled and shook his head. "I don't know, Alfred. The hat will decide for you."

Quirking his head, Alfred asked, "'The hat'?"

"You'll know when you get there," the man assured, mirroring his son's jubilant smile. "But if there's one thing I remember from being in Gryffindor, it's to stay away from those Slytherins." The last word was accompanied by a displeased grimace.

"Okay," Alfred chirped nervously. His eyes hardened, seriousness flickering in his light blue gaze. "So, how do I get on the train again?"

"Oh. You just run into those bricks," his father explained, directing his finger towards the sturdy pillar, "and hope for the best."

"Is that it?" A look of uncertainty replaced the smile on his face. Beads of sweat began forming on his forehead. "How will I know what to do?"

"Just run into the bricks. Hurry - the train is about to leave!" He nudged his son towards the line of future Hogwarts students.

"Wait!" Alfred called. He frantically scanned the crowd, finding that his father was nowhere to be seen. Distracted, his palm slipped, and it took nearly all of his control to swerve his trolley away from you, the hooded figure in front of him. Nevertheless, the wheel snagged on your fluttering cloak.

You whirled around at the culprit and glared at him. "Watch it," you growled. With a sharp jerk, you pulled the dark fabric out from under Alfred's trolley.

"Sorry," he sputtered. "I'm just a bit nervous, is all."

"Don't be," you snapped. After seeing the frightened look on Alfred's face, you sighed. "Look," you added in a softer tone, "there's no spell to cast. You just run. Trust me, you will be fine."

The line thinned in front of you, leaving a clear path directly towards the brick pillar. "See? Watch me," you said to Alfred. Taking a deep breath, you ran straight for the column. Just as you were about to collide with it, you vanished - ominous cloak and all.

"Okay, cool," Alfred muttered. He furrowed his brow in concentration. "I can do this."

A burst of confidence swelled in his chest, and he surged forward with his trolley, legs pumping underneath him. Upon instinct, his eyes snapped shut. The loud chatter of the train station momentarily ceased, a frigid wind rustling his sandy colored hair before he emerged on the other side. Realizing he was holding his breath, Alfred exhaled, opening his eyelids. His mouth dropped open in awe at the enchanted train in front of him. The sign above him marked his destination as "Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters". The corners of his lips curved upward as he continued to marvel the magical station.

"Wait a sec," he wondered, "how do I get on?"

As if on cue, an adult figure stepped off the train a few feet away from him, adorned in the standard staff uniform.

"Excuse me," Alfred called, pushing his trolley over to the man. "Could you please tell me where to get on?"

The man turned, giving the soon-to-be wizard a dry smile. "Just bring your luggage and find a compartment on the train," he instructed.

"Where is the entrance?"

"Right there," he said, pointing at an entryway positioned between two cars.

Alfred beamed and nodded. "Thanks!"

The adult grunted, now incredibly disinterested in the young boy.

After hoisting his heavy bag over his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his pet's cage, he abandoned his trolley near the edge of the track and squeezed through the opening. Alfred walked down the aisle, glancing at the compartments on both sides of him. He was vaguely aware of people pointing and gaping at his bird. His cheeks flushed with pride.

The rooms near the front were piled with students, much to his disappointment. The ones at the back weren't much help, either, and Alfred began to speculate the possibility of having to take his seat between the compartments. That is, until an empty compartment caught his eye. He peered into the glass and realized that it wasn't completely vacant.

The girl he nearly ran over, you, sat near the window. Your head was down. The hood you pulled over your head concealed your features, through your [H/L] [H/C] hair escaped. A tiny Snowy Owl was nestled between your legs, its eyes closed in content.

Alfred pulled the door open. Startled, you and your owl directed their attention on the boy at the entrance. You registered his face, instantly remembering the trolley incident in front of the entrance to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.

"Uh, can I help you?" you asked quietly, making the irritation quite apparent in your voice.

Alfred's eyes widened. "Oh, um…" He cleared his throat and forced himself to smile. "Can I sit here? All the other seats are full."

You shrugged. "Well, alright."

Mumbling a quick, "thanks," the boy stuffed himself into the compartment. He placed his pet cage on the floor and tossed his school bag onto the opposite seat, settling himself across from you. A sharp, low whistle sounded into the air, and the train hummed below your feet.

"Hey, uh, sorry for… you know…" Alfred stuttered, "almost running you over."

"It's fine," you said, your calculating [E/C] gaze sweeping over his features. You pulled your hood down over your shoulders and shook your hair out.

"So, what house do you think you're going to be put in?"

"Well, my family has always been in Slytherin," you recalled, returning your attention to your owl, "so I reckon I will get put in that house."

His face fell almost immediately. "Oh."

"What?"

"You're a Slytherin," he stated, furrowing his brow.

"Yeah." You narrowed your eyes. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well, just, you know," he said, "most bad wizards get put in there."

Annoyance pricked your bubble of content. "My mother and father are the best people I know, thank you very much!" you snapped.

"Sorry, geez," he grumbled. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Well, you did," you huffed. A soft wing brushed against your cheek as your owl fluttered to rest atop your shoulder.

"Okay… Well, where are you from?" he asked.

"Suffolk." You picked at your cloak. "What about you?"

"Washington DC, from America!" he answered, his mouth stretching into a giddy beam.

"Oh, great," you sighed, tiredly, "an American."

He quirked his brow suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," you said. "It's just that most Americans are, well... "

He crossed his arms and glared at you. "That's rude."

"You started it." Searching for something to focus on besides the annoying boy in front of you, your eyes darted to the cage housing Alfred's pet. Your mouth gaped in bewilderment.

"Is that a bloody eagle?!" you shrieked. The big bird turned its beady gaze on you and screeched in return.

"Yep!" Alfred lifted the cage onto the space beside him. "His name's Hero."

"You can't bring an eagle to school!"

"Well, it's better than your pewny owl," he retorted.

"Excuse me," you barked in annoyance, "but Lucan is the best owl out there!"

"Lucan?" Alfred scoffed. "What the heck does that even mean?"

"Git, it means 'bringer of light'."

"Wow, you're deep," he groaned, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"At least I apply depth to my names," you defended, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. "'Hero'? Please. I've heard better names come out of my own father's arse!"

"It is a great name! It mean he's brave, which I am," Alfred cried, pointing at himself, "which means that I'm going to be put in Gryffindor!"

"That makes so much sense." You rolled your eyes. "I mean, so far, you have been nothing but completely barmy."

"What now?"

"Idiotic."

"Who're you calling an idiot!" he hissed, clenching his jaw.

"You," you smirked. "Oh, wait, you must also have short term memory loss."

"Shut it, you… you idiot!" he bellowed. He stood up, towering over you.

"Oh, wow." You leapt to your feet and placed your hands on your hips. "That was the best insult ever, you manky git!"

"Hey, that was rude!" he yelled. By now, you two were standing eye to eye, scowling at each other with such intensity that it was no doubt a fire could have started. Lucan moved back onto the seat.

"Four eyes," he sneered.

"Grotty, nosey parker."

"Well... You're a nasty, slimy Slytherin!" Alfred stamped his foot in frustration. "I hate Slytherin! From now on, you're my rival!"

Your lip curled in irritation. "I would hardly call you a rival. If I ever had to battle you, you would be down in the dust in ten seconds."

"Yeah, right," he snorted. "I bet I can beat you at anything."

"Well, now, you won't be able to find out," you declared. You shouldered your satchel and scooped Lucan off of the seat. "I will not tolerate taking the piss of a poxy, pillock American!"

After gathering your luggage, you stormed out of the compartment and slammed the door. The questioning eyes of other students momentarily darted to Alfred's room.

"Fine! I don't need you anyway!" he shouted after you, but you had already disappeared down the aisle. He sighed and flopped down on his seat.

"Stupid Slytherin." Discovering a cauldron cake in his coat, he unwrapped it enthusiastically and took a bite. Sweetness exploded on his tastebuds. He looked to Hero, who cocked his head and studied Alfred. "Dad was right - Slytherins are ill-tempered."

The eagle simply blinked and ruffled its feathers.

Alfred crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I know, right?"

* * *

You stomped away from the compartment, cradling Lucan close to your chest.

"I can't believe that boy!" you grumbled, keeping your eyes steadily trained on your pet. "I mean, we haven't even gotten into our houses yet, but he would be a Gryffindor - reckless, rude. I don't even know his name yet. Heck, I don't want to know his name." Realizing your current actions, you shook your head. "I'm going bloody crazy - talking to an owl."

Wanting to put as much distance between you and that annoying boy, you continued down the aisle. A particular compartment caught your eye. You slowed your steps to allow yourself to look into the room. Three boys - definitely older than you - made themselves comfortable on the seats. It was obvious that they had attended Hogwarts before, seeing as they were clad in the traditional robes and ties.

You hesitated, considering the facts. These were experienced, older students. They may not want to associate themselves with a young girl who isn't even a wizard yet. However, as you turned around to glance at the room you previously stayed in (with that irritating, unbearable Gryffindor), you decided that you would rather cram yourself in with fifth year students than withstand torture for a couple more hours.

You peeked your head into the compartment. "Excuse me," you greeted the students, "the other seats are full. May I sit here?"

"Go ahead," a boy with thick eyebrows grunted. The boy next to him did little to acknowledge you, keeping his eyes trained on the open book on his lap. Across from him, another student leaned against the window, asleep.

"Thanks." You took your seat next to the sleeping boy, unwrapping a mouse pop. You slipped a hand into your cloak pocket and dangled an actual dead mouse in front of Lucan. The white owl happily gulped it down.

"What's up?" The reading student peeled his eyes away from the textbook, regarding you with deep blue hues.

You sighed in exasperation. "I just met the world's most annoying kid who thinks that Slytherins are a nuisance. "

"Well, Slytherin is the best house, to be exact." The boy who first greeted you turned to look at you. He offered you a one-sided smile, reaching into his uniform and pulling out a shiny green badge. "In fact, I'm a Prefect," he said, his cheeks glowing with pride.

"Wow," you breathed in honest admiration.

"What's your name?"

"[First name] [Last name]," you answered. "Today is my first day."  
"Arthur Kirkland, fifth year," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

You shook it, sighing, "Finally, someone around here who isn't off their trolley."

"This is Lukas," he said, nodding towards the light-haired bookworm, "and the one sleeping over there is Vladimir."

"Hello, nice to meet you," you addressed each one in turn.

"So, what house are you hoping to get in?" Arthur asked, returning his Prefect badge into the safety of his coat pocket.

"Well, I really want Slytherin," you replied, explaining, "since my family has a pure bloodline of that house."

"A pure blood," Arthur noted with approval. "That alone gives you a good chance."

You nodded, unfurling a pack of sour strawberry strips. You turned to the Prefect. "You want one?" you offered, crinkling your nose in disgust. "I don't really like sour things."

"No, thanks." Arthur called to Lukas, "Want one?"

"Sure." Lukas set his book atop his lap and opened his hand. You dropped a strip into his palm. It quickly vanished into his mouth.

"So," he started, his voice muffled by the candy, "what's your owl's name?"

"Lucan," you answered.

"Nice name."

"So, anyway, Vladimir..." Arthur began, looking at the sleeping boy across from him. A frown adorned his features when he realized that his companion was unconscious. "Wake up!"

Vladimir's red hues fluttered open."Wh-what? Um, are we there yet?" He yawned, massaging the dark circles under his eyes as he scanned the compartment in exhaustion. His newly awakened gaze came to rest upon you. "Oh, we have a new cabin mate."

"Yes. This is [First name] [Last name]."

"Nice to meet you," the sleepy student greeted, his voice thick with slumber. "I'm Vladimir Popescu. I'm from Romania, and I'm in Slytherin."

You grinned politely. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Then there's Lukas over here," Vladimir continued, directing his thumb at the reading boy, "who is in Ravenclaw." At the mention of his name, Lukas glanced at Vladimir questioningly, adjusting the clip in his flaxen hair.

You nodded, taking a moment to digest the information. "So, is there anything else I should know about?"

"Well, let's see…" Vladimir pursed his lips. "Mathias Køhler is in Gryffindor - same year as us. Um, don't be nervous when you get to the Sorting Hat - it's easy. And... Oh!" He gasped, a jubilant beam brightening his deathly pale skin. "Make sure you try out for Quidditch! You look like you would make a good goalie."

"What, no!" Arthur exclaimed incredulously. "She looks more like a seeker, if you ask me."

The Romanian studied you for a moment, his scarlet eyes examining your features. "Huh. I guess you're right, Arthur." He allowed his back to slump against the seat, his head coming to rest against the window. "Wake me up when we get there."

Arthur's green gaze widened. "Wait, Vladimir…"

Vladimir showed no signs of recognition, his eyes already shut tight and his breathing becoming slow and even.

You quirked your head at Vladimir curiously. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He's fine," Arthur insisted, unconcerned, "just a bit nocturnal."

Nodding, you turned your attention to the shy Ravenclaw across from you. "What are you reading?"

Lukas flinched, startled by your interaction. Using his thumb as a placeholder, he flipped the hardback to its cover. "The Use of Herbology in Potions, by Gularia Sudanno," he read.

The words sounded familiar to you. "I believe my dad has that book," you recalled.

"It's fascinating, really - how a singular herb can have so many different uses," he stated, a thoughtful glimmer in his gaze. "I wonder if I can remember them all."

"Doubting yourself?" you inquired. "That's new."

"I wasn't doubting myself," Lukas insisted. He folded the corner of his current page and tucked it away in his bag. "I was encouraging myself."

Then, the train stopped.

"Well, time sure does fly by," Arthur mused. He stood, propping his trunk under a careful arm. Turning to his comrades, he beckoned them with a nod. "Come on, boys."

"We're wizards," Lukas noted, a hint of irritation in his tone, "don't call me 'boy'."

"Don't worry," you assured the boys. As you wrapped your hands around your bag, Lucan hopped onto your shoulders. You puffed your chest out proudly. "I already know I'm Slytherin material."

"Determination - that's good," he recognized. He raised a hand in farewell. "See you around, [First name]."

"Bye," Lukas and Vladimir bid in unison, slipping out of the compartment after their friend. "Hope to see you soon."

-End of Chapter One-


	2. Chapter 2

"Please leave your luggage on the train." A monotonous voice carried throughout the train as students filed outside. "It will be taken to the school separately."

A diverse range of wizards and witches hurriedly pushed their way off the train onto a tiny, dark platform. As you stepped off the train, a frigid wind seeped through your uniform and sent shivers up your spine. Lucan ruffled his feathers, seemingly unconcerned by the change in temperature. Darkness spread like a cloak over the sea of bodies flooding out of the train cars. Your eyes widened instinctively as your vision adjusted to the murky twilight.

"Everyone, this way," a gruff voice called. The voice belonged to a massive, broad being, though the dark fog made it difficult to perceive any other details.

You followed the gigantic figure into a back alleyway, simply one in hundreds as others shrugged past you. The cobblestone pathway eventually broadened out. Glistening river stones shifted beneath your feet. A vivid image of an endless, black lake stretched in front of you. Your mouth gaped in wordless awe, though the pushing and shoving of the students behind you made it considerably harder to goggle at the sight.

Just as the crowd of children neared the edge of the tide, the man (Man? Giant? You weren't sure what to call him) halted, slowly turning around to face the students. The hushed chatter around you ceased, and all turned their awaiting ears to the towering guide.

"No more than four to a boat," he instructed. You peered around the shuffling students and squinted, just being able to make out a long row of boats bobbing up and down in the water.

Two hands grabbed your shoulder, startling a surprised squeak out of you. "Remember us," a familiar, silvery voice uttered in your ear. You whirled around and relaxed as you saw the trio from the train ride.

"I already have," you said.

Eventually, you and your friends were ushered onto a wooden boat. You gripped the sides of the watercraft as gentle waves enveloped the keel.

Your guide, who took his place in a boat at the very front of the group, craned his head to scan the waters behind him. "Everyone in?" After confirming that there were no stragglers, he turned back around and declared, " Right, then - FORWARD."

The four of you grabbed an oar from the bottom of the boat and pushed off of the rocky shore, following the other boats as they dipped and bobbed with the quiet water. You found that it wasn't as hard to steer a boat as you imagined, though that could have just been because the others were putting forth most of the effort. The entire ride was silent, broken only by the quiet lapping of the lake as your oars sliced through the water. You peered into the distant horizon. Your breath stole away once again as your eyes registered a great, tall castle through the dense fog. Golden light radiated from small pockets in the building.

"Wow," you murmured, nearly dropping your oar into the chilly water.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it," Arthur beamed. He glanced at you over his shoulder. "Welcome to Hogwarts, [First name]."

Your boat groaned as it brushed against the muddy shore, flanked by two others. Eager to feel solid ground beneath your feet, you scrambled out of the tilting boat. You and your companions rejoined with the crowd and allowed yourselves to be herded along the bank. The mud under your boots became firm as the distance between you and the lake increased. Shoots of damp, healthy grass dappled the ground as you neared the school - which only became more magnificent as you neared the keep. The gigantic spires in particular caught your eye, as well as the beautifully arched windows that cast amber light into the night sky. In fact, you couldn't even remember ever seeing the stars as clearly as you could in this moment.

After some time, your giant guide halted at the towering gates of the castle. The mass of young wizards followed suite, slowly shuffling to a stop, hesitating. A series of loud, rapid knocks sounded into the air. All was still and silent.

With a low hum, the great wooden doors swiveled open to reveal a tiny silhouette. The figure stepped out into the cold, revealing himself to the gathering of pupils. You briefly analyzed his features. Most obviously an adult, he was tall and slim, though much of his body was concealed by a dark, billowing cape. His pale face were framed by chin-length black hair. A sour look was permanently etched onto his features.

"First years follow me," he instructed in a wearisome tone. "All others,take your places at the appropriate table."

Arthur leaned towards you. "That's Professor Snape," he whispered, his breath dancing in the chilly air in front of you. "He's the professor of the Potions class here at Hogwarts. It's best not to get on his bad side."

You were made to depart from your fifth-year friends, instead following Professor Snape down a separate corridor in the castle. Your heart fluttered as you gazed at the architecture with amazement. As you and the cluster of other new students came to an arched doorway, he turned to face you.

Sharp, precise footsteps rang throughout the hollow castle. You craned your head down the narrow hallway in curiousity, expecting a straggling student or other minor teacher. However, as the anxious crowd parted to allow them through, an old woman - probably older than your own grandmother - ambled to the very front of the great doors, her robe gracefully drifting behind her. Her intuitive gaze swept the batch of newest students behind a set of circular glasses. Lines of age and knowledge were worn into her features, and you found yourself trusting her almost immediately.

"Hello," she greeted, her orotund voice piercing the lingering silence, "and welcome to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You may refer to me as Headmaster McGonagall. The banquet, on the other side of these doors, will begin shortly, just after you are sorted into your houses. There are four houses - Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin - each with an honorable history that you are expected to uphold.

"While you are here, your house is like your family. You will have classes with other members of your house, sleep in your house dormitories, and spend your free time in your house common room." The Headmaster paused briefly, allowing the information to settle. "Any achievements are rewarded to your house in the form of points. Likewise, any mishaps are likely to result in point deduction. The house at the end of the year with the most points is rewarded the House Cup."

A murmur of excitement swept through the fidgeting first-years.

"Professor Snape will lead you into the Great Hall when preparations are made to welcome you," she finished, slipping between the two doors and into the room on the other side.

The man stood guard near the entryway, as if suspicious that a student may try to make a getaway. He scowled. "In the meantime, I suggest you get yourselves cleaned up and presentable."

Not even a whole minute later, Snape pushed the doors open in a swift motion and entered the Great Hall, the huddle of new wizards shuffling after him. Your mouth hung agape as you studied your surroundings. Two long, elegant tables sat on either side of you, seating hundreds of older students. At first glance, the ceiling seemed nonexistent, for it projected the glittering image of the night sky. Wax candles floated in the air all around you, illuminating the Great Hall in wondrous golden light. Dozens of professors were present at the front of the room at a horizontal table of their own, welcoming grins on many of their faces. The Headmaster took her place at the middle of the table.

Snape came to a standstill at the head of the hall and faced the students. Shambling to a stop with the rest of the first-years, you took notice of a scroll of parchment in his hand. Silence enveloped the room as everyone eagerly listened for further instructions.

"I will call role," he told them. "When you hear your name, you will sit on the stool," he gestured to the wooden footstool beside him, "and put on the Sorting Hat to be sorted into your houses. Sit at your designated table when you are arranged into a house."

With seemingly impatient fingers, he unfurled the parchment and studied the ink. "First on the list - Natalia... Arlovskaya," he called.

A girl with long, platinum-blonde hair and a fierce blue gaze walked forward and took her seat on the stool. Her eyes darted to each of the four tables nervously. Snape tucked the paper under his arm and placed a pointed hat atop her head. The hat looked as if it had existed for for a thousand years, for the fabric was worn, weathered, and wrinkled. In fact, the creases nearly looked like they could've been a face at one point.

Your heart skipped a beat when the Sorting Hat began speaking.

"Natalia…" the hat pondered, probably scaring the poor girl for the rest of her life. "Let's see… I know just the house for you, my dear. Slytherin!"

The table at the far left, adorned in green, erupted in applause. The corner of Natalia's lips curved up in a one-sided grin, and as soon as she was relieved of the hat, she jumped up and excitedly trotted to her newly assigned house.

"Okay, next is [First name] [Last name]."

You gulped and forced your legs to move forward. You could feel the piercing eyes of other students as you took your place, clasping your hands together on your lap in an attempt to keep yourself from fidgeting. The weight of the enchanted hat was pressed onto your head. Every ounce of your dignity and willpower was poured into resisting the urge to scream.

A few seconds passed without the Sorting Hat uttering anything. Butterflies danced in your stomach. Your eyes nervously flicked over to the cluster of waiting first-years. What if you didn't belong to a house? What if you weren't a wizard, or had to spend the rest of your life knowing you were a reject?

As soon as these worries surfaced, you quickly pushed them down. You knew you were a wizard, and you knew you were going to succeed as a Slytherin. You had an entire bloodline to back you up, besides the fact that it felt right in your gut. Slytherin was your home even before you were aware of its existence.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt the Sorting Hat shift. "Slytherin!" it declared abruptly.

A wave of relief and joy washed over you. The Slytherin house loudly rejoiced, accepting you as one of their own. You hurriedly joined your new friends, taking your seat next to Arthur and Vladimir. You felt as if nothing could keep you from smiling.

The starry clouds above you drifted along as one kid after another took their places amidst the houses they were assigned. In all honesty, as the ceremony went on, it became hard to focus on the new students.

"Alfred F. Jones," Snape read. An angry lump formed in your throat, but you directed your attention to the front.

The annoying boy, Alfred, took small, hurried steps up to the footstool and took a seat. Anxiously wringing his hands, his light gaze rapidly glanced down to his feet.

"Let's see…" the Sorting Hat grumbled in thought. "Well, I sense a good Gryffindor in you, lad, so it'll have to be Gryffindor!"

Screams of welcome came forth from the Gryffindor table. Dimples surfaced on Alfred's warm cheeks. Before the hat was even taken from him, he fistpumped the air and whooped loudly.

You rolled your eyes.

"My thoughts, exactly," Arthur agreed, silently glaring at the first-year.

Someone tapped your shoulder. You turned your head and saw a short man standing behind you, your trunk and bag in his arms.

"Here is your luggage, miss [last name]," he said, grinning politely. He offered your luggage.

You mirrored his smile and gratefully took your supplies. "Thanks." He nodded and disappeared down the aisle.

It wasn't long after Alfred's obnoxious 'performance' that the remaining first-years were each divided into their houses. McGonagall stood to address the school.

"I hope you all enjoy your first year at Hogwarts," she said. "This year, we will also be hosting the Triwizard Tournament, so if you are of age, you are legible to enter your name into the Goblet." She paused, gesturing to the empty tables before them. "Without further ado, let the feast begin."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Feast? What- oh!"

A bounty of food materialized along the four tables. An assortment of cakes, sandwiches, fruits, pastries, meats, dishes, and other fresh, edible delicacies presented themselves before you. With an empty plate in front of you, you took the opportunity to feast like you would never feast again.

The difference between the two houses were apparent: Slytherin was mostly eating and chatting, while Gryffindor was more so just screaming and tossing the food around.

"I'm glad I'm a Slytherin," you mumbled around a morsel of cake.

Arthur nodded, his mouth too busy with a sandwich. He swallowed and grinned at you. "Well, you got into the best house."

"Thank you," you said. "I mean, I really couldn't see myself in any other house - just look at them! You pointed towards the Gryffindor table and grimaced. "Full of brats."

"I agree."

"So, Arthur, what is the 'Triwizard Tournament'?" you inquired. You forked another piece of cake onto your plate, despite the fact that you had yet to finish the slice of pie.

The Prefect's eyes glimmered wistfully. "It a magnificent tournament, held every five years," he informed. "You compete in three deadly challenges against other magic schools. The winner earns the cup for their school, and if a Hogwarts student wins, we'll make a tremendous amount of house points - which'll help us win the House Cup." He frowned. "So far, Slytherin has lost the past two years to Gryffindor."

"Well, this year, I will make sure Gryffindor doesn't win," you vowed, glaring in their direction.

"That's good," he said, breaking another sandwich slice in two. "Well, let's just see what happens."

While Arthur further introduced you to the workings and rules of Hogwarts, two tables away, Alfred received a greeting of his own.

"Hello," an older boy said to the energetic first-year. He smiled and held out his hand in greeting. "I'm Mathias. Alfred, right?"

Pleased that Mathias had remembered his name, Alfred beamed and shook his hand. "That's right."

"Welcome to the best house in all of Hogwarts history!" Mathias exclaimed, proudly gesturing to the rest of the table. "Man, we got a lot of Gryffindors this year!"

"Yeah," Alfred agreed wholeheartedly. "I'm so glad I got put in here instead of Slytherin."

"Well, I see you already know the ropes," the blonde observed. "Why, did you already meet one?"

"Yeah. On the train, there was this girl who was so rude! She called me a lot of bad things."

Mathias grinned sympathetically, stealing a cookie from Alfred's plate. "One thing you should know is that Slytherins are on a losing streak. If we win, they wouldn't have had the House Cup for three years."

"I'll make sure to keep it out of their slimy hands," Alfred laughed. He was just about to make another snide comment when he felt a little poke to his shoulder.

"Luggage, sir," a little man said, Alfred's bag and pet cage tucked under one arm.

Nodding appreciatively at him, Alfred eagerly retrieved his items. "Sweet, thanks!"

Mathias did a double-take. "Is that an eagle?!"

Alfred nodded hesitantly, wincing. "Let me guess," he murmured, "you're going to yell at me about it aren't you."

"No, no, not at all!" Mathias insisted. Mischief and curiosity glinted in his blue gaze. "You should take it out. This should be cool!"

"Okay!" Alfred agreed immediately. Clearing a space on the table, he carefully lifted the wicker cage onto the wood and, without another thought, opened the latch. Hero studied its surroundings suspiciously, glancing at Alfred a couple of times before hopping onto the table. The big bird extended its wings experimentally, toddling around on the table not too far from its owner. By now, most of Gryffindor was aware of the raptor. Students gaped and pointed at Hero, some exclaiming in wonder, some muttering to others about it. A few wizards huddled around Alfred in admiration.

Alfred beamed and looked to Mathias. "Pretty cool, right?"

"You bet!" The older student returned his excited smile and clapped him on the back.

Hero teetered to the edge of the table and began flapping his wings, scattering a few students. Stones dropped in Alfred's stomach. He reached out to his pet desperately. "Wait, Hero-"

The eagle swiftly took off before Alfred could get a hold on it. A mighty screech echoed throughout the Great Hall as it soared over the tables, attracting the attention of the entire school. Chaos ensued: frightened shrieking came from all corners of the room as wizards and witches alike ducked under the tables in alarm; a flurry of people scrambled for the doors, pushing and shoving one another in a panic to get to the exit; a small percentage of students were as rigid as stone, mesmerized by the eagle's swooping and diving; others took advantage of the disorder by stuffing as much food as they possibly could in their mouths.

"Oh no!" Alfred cried. He cupped his hands to his mouth and called, "Hero, come back!"

Hero fixed its watchful eye on the panicked first-year and tucked its wings back. Relief swelled in Alfred's chest. Perhaps he could fix the situation after all.

However, just as Hero began gliding towards Alfred, it made a sharp turn for the Slytherin table. You watched unbelievably as the flying raptor folded its wings back, extended its talons, and dive-bombed Arthur. The two of you screamed simultaneously and tried your best to untangle the eagle from the Prefect's hair. Eventually, you were able to swat Hero away from your friend. With an astonished screech, the eagle withdrew and began circling Arthur from above.

"Go away!" you hollered at Hero, but the bird seemed unfazed. Alfred appeared beside you.

"Stay calm," he insisted, though he didn't seem to be handling the situation well, either. "He just wants some food. He probably thinks Arthur's eyebrows are just caterpillars."  
Enraged, Arthur glared daggers at the younger boy. "Alfred, you plonker, get over here and-" The rest of his response dissolved into a horrified shriek as Hero made a second attempt for his head, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you witnessed Snape target the eagle with his wand. "Stupefy!"

The bird froze and fell to the floor. Arthur whimpered and crawled away from the eagle. The entire Great Hall was stilled in shocked silence, astonishment and panic still lingering in the atmosphere. Many pairs of eyes were hesitantly trained on the spectacle near the Slytherin table.

Snape whirled around and scowled at Alfred. "Mr. Jones," he hissed, "what is this?"

"My pet," Alfred muttered, crouching by Hero's side.

"Mr. Jones, in what sort of way did you think that letting a _full grown eagle_ out of its cage was a good idea?"

Alfred withered under the professor's angry gaze. "Well, you see... I..."

"It attacked one of my best students," he pointed out, gesturing to the Prefect on the floor. Steadily, you helped Arthur to his feet and narrowed your eyes at Alfred. The young boy's eyes retreated to his feet in embarrassment.

"Detention, and fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape declared. Giving Alfred one last searing glance, he left the scene, his dark cape billowing around him.

"Wanker," you growled under your breath.

"You!" Alfred cried, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction. "You did this, didn't you!"

Your mouth gaped in alarm. "What! That is preposterous! How could I have possibly done that?"

"I don't know," Alfred admitted, "but Hero would never attack someone." He scooped his eagle, still temporarily paralyzed, into his arms.

"He is a predatory bird!" you reasoned desperately. "Of course he would attack someone!"

"Well, you're a Slytherin," he spat. Outraged, the entire Slytherin house leaped to their feet.

"Watch it, first-year," a student called.

Mathias stepped in front of Alfred defensively. "Leave him alone," he said. "He was just letting his bird spread his wings. Nothing wrong with that." He crossed his arms and huffed, "Leave it to Slytherins to lose their tempers"

"Classic Gryffindor," Arthur retaliated, placing his hands on his hips matter-of-factly, "never taking responsibility for what they've done. You always having to be the good guys, so you make us Slytherins seem worse by comparison. Real mature."

Balling his hands into fists, Mathias sneered, "Let's go, pal," and lunged at Arthur. Students reeled back in shock.

To your astonished relief, Lukas came out of nowhere. Before Mathias could knock the Slytherin in the face, Lukas pushed him backwards, resulting in a very stunned, very flustered Gryffindor.

Like a disappointed mother, Lukas shook his head. "No more fighting," he scolded. He dragged Mathias off by his ear, though you, Arthur, and the rest of the house glowered after him.

You turned to Arthur, sighing in exasperation. "They're not worth it," you insisted.

"I swear," Arthur grumbled, massaging his temples, "if he wasn't my brother, I would have…"

"Wait, what?" You studied him in bewilderment. "Mathias is your brother?"

"Bloody hell, no! Alfred is."

This was still unbelievable to you. "But you guys are nothing alike," you pointed out.

"Half brother, really," Arthur clarified. "See, my dad is his dad, but he had a muggle mother. I have a pure blood." He frowned. "Dad left Mom for some muggle."

"Well, that's a kick in the pants," you commented out of sympathy. You couldn't imagine what would happen if your father left your mother for someone who wasn't even a wizard.

Arthur waved it off. "No worries, although I still can't believe I have Gryffindor blood." At the mention of the problematic house, you both shuddered.

Your eyes briefly darted to Arthur's brow. Personally, you understood why Hero had perceived them as caterpillars, but there was no way in hell you would ever mention that aloud.

-End of Chapter Two-


	3. Chapter 3

After Alfred's ordeal with the eagle - unironically branded the "Eagle Incident" - the school slowly regained its calm, composed atmosphere. You, however, were still enraged that the Gryffindor had blamed you for his mistake, and often found your fists clenched and your stance rigid. The entire thing was completely and utterly preposterous. Trying your hardest to forget about your fight with Alfred, you huffed and stuffed a chocolate frog in your mouth.

You were beyond thrilled when the Prefects showed you to your common room. Your parents had often described the dungeon to you before you received your Hogwarts acceptance letter, but you had no idea that it would be as magnificent as it was. Although it had been a few hours after you glimpsed at the room, your breath still stole away from you in amazement each time your eyes wandered the great chamber.

"Pure blood," you spoke to the door, feeling a small twinge of excitement as it creaked open. Most everyone had retreated to the dormitories, so you made the decision to do so as well. You trudged up the ominous stairwell and into the girls' dorms. The atmosphere of the massive bedroom was peaceful, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and a few girls muttering to themselves here and there. Sighing in exhaustion, you located the bed you had chosen earlier in the evening. Your half-packed luggage was strewn about the covers in a disorganized manner, though you were pleased to find that nothing had been touched since your brief departure to the restrooms. It seemed that the girl from earlier, Natalia, had chosen her bed to be right beside yours.

"Hello," you murmured, unpacking your cumbersome school bag. Various textbooks dropped to the floor with a hollow thump, startling Lucan from your shoulder into the air.

The girl acknowledged you with a brief glance. "Hi," she grunted, busy with her own supplies. Lucan took immediate interest in the dark green comforter that adorned your bed. With a low coo, the snowy owl hopped onto the fabric and ruffled his feathers in content. You reached into your pocket, unfurled your schedule, and studied the words printed below your name.

"Tomorrow is Monday," you mumbled, "so I have flying first."

Natalia's stern gaze briefly darted to you. "You, too?"

"Yeah, why? Is that your first period?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, carefully positioning an ebony picture frame atop her nightstand. Upon closer inspection, the picture seemed like it was of great age, as the edges had faded and furled. A tall, friendly-looking woman stood in the center of the photo, while a younger version of Natalia and a boy stood at either side. It seemed as if they were siblings, for each figure sported the same flaxen hair, icy gaze, and ominous expression.

You turned your attention away from the picture and placed your wand next to your alarm clock. Shoving your empty bag under your bed, you decided to get used to the common room a bit more. It appeared that Natalia had followed you out. However, as you turned around to converse with her, she brushed past you and joined up with the boy you saw in the picture. Judging from his height and heavily built appearance, he seemed as if he were in his sixth year.

Though you were a bit embarrassed at your misunderstanding, you shrugged and slipped out of the Slytherin entrance, into the corridor on the other side. The chatter of your fellow housemates was muffled to the point of near silence. Your breathing seemed to echo throughout the vacant hallway, the faint scent of wax and parchment lingering in the undisturbed atmosphere. You decided that although you liked the common room, you found the passageways to be more rewarding of your alone time.

Loud rumbling sounded through the corridor and interrupted your thoughts. Not long after, a wave of students surged forward from the stairwell and filled the hallway to the brim. You found yourself flattened against the wall to avoid being trampled by the stampede. Your astonished gaze managed to distinguish flashes of gold and scarlet among the sudden sea of chaos. You scowled. Gryffindor, of course.

"Watch it!" you snapped as an older student slammed into you. You positioned your arms in front of your face defensively in a feeble attempt to block the spasming limbs of those running past you. Suddenly, a horde of second year students bundled into you, sweeping you into the stampede. Though you screamed and cursed as loud as you possibly could, you were knocked about in a manner similar to that of a pinball. The only thing left to do at that point was to surrender to the flow and allow yourself to be carried by the rowdy crowd.

When the rush of students finally subsided, you were laying facedown near the Gryffindor common room. Panting, you peeled yourself off the ground, wincing at the feeling of newly formed bruises. After managing to get to your feet, you hastily straightened your robes and brushed exhausted fingers through your [H/C] hair.

"Lousey, no-good prats," you hissed under your breath. The temptation to start a fire momentarily flickered through your mind, but you've had enough for one day and decided to find your way back to the Slytherin quarters. However, much to your displeasure, you spotted Alfred and Mathias walking towards the Fat Lady portrait. You made the decision to be the better one in the situation and ignore them. It seemed as if Alfred had other plans.

"Hey," he yelled," you cost us fifty points!"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, God," you groaned, turning to face the two Gryffindors. A frown darkened your already-tired features. "No, I didn't. My pet was legal at this school and didn't attack anyone. I suggest you suck it up, build a bridge, and get over it." Not having the energy for an argument, you purposefully walked past them in the direction of your common room.

"Well, at least I got put in a good house and not one full of villains," Alfred sneered.

A surge of anger washed over you. You swiveled around and bore your fiery [E/C] gaze down onto the first year.

"Listen here, you skanky tyke," you spat. "I will not take your piss as you insult my house! In fact, us Slytherins could beat you Gryffindors any day of the week!"

Alfred scoffed and waved you off. "As if! At least our house had won the Cup last year and the year before that."

"This year will change because they got me!" you declared. You directed a stern finger at Alfred. "And while you gormless boys stand here and wreck everything in sight, I will be racking up points for our house."

The boy's nostrils flared. "Well, while you Slytherins are busy making everyone miserable, we will be the heroes and rack up points! Can't say the same for you, slimy Slytherin."

By now, even Mathias had backed away. One wrong move and it looked like you two would blow up the school.

"Okay, calm down," Mathias insisted, a worrisome expression etched on his features. "I have an idea. How about this year, who ever wins the House Cup, the other person has to tell them that their house is better."

Alfred nodded. "Sounds good," he agreed, keeping his enraged blue eyes locked with yours.

"Sounds lovely," you hissed through gritted teeth. After a moment of hesitance, you broke your unwavering gaze away from Alfred. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off." You marched away from the two, intending to finally return to your common room. You were faintly aware of Alfred staring after you.

As the hearthlight in the Slytherin common room dimmed, you stared up at the ceiling, alone with none but your thoughts. Earlier, you had sent Lucan to the Owlery to roost, leaving no one to vent to about your infuriating rival.

 _"Wait a second,"_ you wondered, feeling a confused expression taking form on your features. _"If we are underground, then why in the world is the window blue? Perhaps some sort of spell?"_

Slipping quietly out of bed as to not wake the others, you tip-toed over to the arched glass and pressed your face against it. Shivers ran down your spine as the cold seeped into your body. The deep waters of the lake stretched out in all directions before your eyes. As you continued to gaze at the vast stretch of water, you realized that an entire ecosystem had flourished in what seemed to be inhabitable. A school of tiny minnow darted in front of the window for a fraction of a second before speeding off. Starfish of all sizes, shapes, and colors lay on the rocky hills that arose from the bottom of the lake. Various underwater plants dipped and swayed with the freezing current, thriving in the unusual temperature.

You were unable to do much else besides gape your mouth in wordless awe, until an alarming shadow passed directly in front of the window. Fear and astonishment formed a lump in your throat.

 _"What the devil is that!"_ you shrieked internally. Determined to confirm that it wasn't some blood-thirsty monster, you squinted at the vast expanse of dark blue through the window frame. A long, slimy tendril waved at you, making you recoil in disgust. A dozen alarms went off in your head at once. _"Is that a giant squid?! The school has a giant squid in the lake! Are they mad?!"_

You decided that you had had absolutely enough for one day - one evening, to be exact. So far, you've met who had to be the most aggravating eleven-year-old on earth, declared said boy your nemesis, and nearly died two times today - which, by the way, were both caused by Gryffindors. Although you did meet a welcoming group of boys earlier on the train ride, you were still at a loss when it came to the people in your grade level. You knew no one, and you weren't even sure if the one girl you met wanted to be your friend or not.

With these final thoughts in your head, you slipped back under the warm, green comforter. Drowsiness had begun to take a toll on your body, for your muscles had began aching and the edges of your vision were plagued with darkness.

"There's no way in hell I'm losing to him," you whispered to no one in particular, turning in your covers to get into a more comfortable position. Just as your eyelids fluttered shut, you glimpsed the murky reflections of the lake on the ceiling, momentarily interrupted by a looming shadow on the other side of the arched window.

-End of Chapter Three-

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 **Author's Note:** Hey, guys! Dragon, here! The amount of support we are getting on our story is awesome, so thank you SO much for doing that :3

Unfortunately, due to the school year starting, the updates to this story may be less frequent. Nevertheless, I sincerely hope you continue enjoying this story as much as we enjoyed writing it.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: _FINALLY!_ AFTER FIVE MONTHS, IT'S DONE! I apologize for the long wait; my teachers are not kind to me when assigning homework. Thank you so, so much to those who were patient enough to wait around for another chapter - and it's very understandable if others left. It's been a while, but I really hope you guys like this chapter. Once again, sorry for the wait, and thank you for continuing to show your support!

* * *

If someone were to ask you to describe your first day at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in one word, and one word only, that word would be _"tiring"_. There were several factors that contributed to your exhaustion - such as the typical first-day-anxiety many first-years get, as well as the not-so-typical giant squid lurking on the other side of the window a few feet away. As a result, your first day started when the clock on your bedstand had both the minute and hour hand pointed directly at twelve.

Any attempts to fall asleep were met with frustration, and as the cool morning light turned the murky lake water a pastel blue, you mentally declared, "Screw this," and began preparing for your classes. As your eyes fell upon your sleeping roommates, however, it took every ounce of willpower to keep your eyes open. Perhaps the only motivation you had to stay awake was the fact that your first class would be flying lessons. Just the thought of it made your heart flutter. Oh, how you've been looking forward to this day - finally being able to fly!

Your enthusiasm gave you a massive surge of energy. Just as the other girls had only begun to stir, you had already dressed in your robe, gathered your books, and shouldered your bag. Unfortunately, your grogginess hadn't completely gone away, for as you practically sped down the moving stairwell and into the Great Hall, the thin light of morning nearly caused your eyes to tear up. To make it all the more awkward, the giant dining room was completely vacant upon arrival.

"Nice," you murmured sarcastically to yourself, slumping against the wall. You would have to wait for the others to arrive before you entered the Great Hall. Your complaining stomach did not help the situation one bit.

Luckily, you didn't have to linger outside the room for more than about ten minutes. Relief swelled in your chest as a crowd adorned in familiar green ties ambled to the front of the great double doors. Recognizing Arthur in the large group of students, you hurried to your feet, hoping that you would be able to sit next to him. After all, he was the person you trusted the most.

"Hello, Arthur," you greeted, unable to keep an eager grin from surfacing. You settled into a matching pace beside him.

The older wizard mirrored your smile. "Good morning, [Y/N]," he acknowledged. His light green gaze studied your features. "You seem very chipper this morning."

Nodding, you explained, "I have Flying after breakfast."

Arthur's lips curved into a beam at the mention of the class. "Really? I'm jealous already!"

When all four houses became present in the Great Hall, delicious breakfast foods appeared on the long tables in the same fashion as the night before. You practically inhaled everything placed in front of you, bid a quick farewell to your friends in the Slytherin house, and hurried to the location specified on your schedule.

You eventually followed your map to a massive green field out at the back of the school, still cold and glistening with morning frost. Bundling yourself up as much as you could in your black cloak, you walked into the middle of the field and paused hesitantly. A brief scan of your surroundings confirmed that you were the first person here. After standing around awkwardly for a few more minutes, a steady trickle of young wizards stepped took their places on the cool grass. Noticing that they organized themselves (as much as it was possible for a bunch of nervous first-years) in a long line, you followed suite and squeezed yourself in next to Natalia. You attempted to make eye contact with her, but she seemed to find her shoes more interesting.

"Alright, class," the instructor called from the front of the line. "Today is the day you will learn how to fly on a broom - a skill all witches and wizards must know in in the wizarding world. You may refer to me as Madam Hooch."

A murmur of excitement arose from the fidgeting row of children.

"The first thing I want you to do," she instructed, "is find a partner."

You looked around. Realizing that the trio you met on the train wouldn't be here, you sighed. You felt a tap on the shoulder, and with a glance behind you, found that Natalia was the one who did so.

"I don't have a partner," she explained in her usual, monotone voice, shyly shifting her weight, "so can I be yours?"

This surprised you quite a bit, since she never seemed to show an interest in you before, but you were happy, nonetheless. You offered her a one-sided grin. "I don't see why not."

The corner of her mouth twitched as she gratefully took her place beside you. The both of you silently stood in the middle of the field, waiting for further instructions from Madam Hooch.

Meanwhile, not a few feet away, a certain Gryffindor boy studied his surroundings, attempting to pinpoint a lone (hopefully friendly-looking) face in the multitude of students bustling about the yard. It just so happened that a short, rather shy Ravenclaw staggered into him, nearly knocking the breath out of his body. He turned around to confront his classmate - a boy with dark, calculating eyes and short, black hair. Embarrassment bloomed on his features in the form of a blush.

"My apologies," the boy sputtered, eyes as wide as saucers. "I was clumsy and didn't see where I was going. I hope I didn't hurt you too bad."

Alfred quirked his head, trying to process the boy's overly-apologetic behavior. "I-It's fine."

"No, really," he persisted, worry apparent in his tone, "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, truly. Are you hurt anywhere? Are your robes torn? If you would like, I could help you to the infirmary-"

"Hey," Alfred interjected. He smiled, wanting to show his classmate that everything was alright, and that there wasn't really a need to apologize. "Seriously, it's fine, dude!"

Breathing a sigh of relief, the boy nodded and relaxed his shoulders. "That's good, then."

The Gryffindor studied the small figure in front of him in curiosity. Why in the world was this guy so nervous? After all, because pretty much everyone in this class was in their first year, they were all in the same boat. Did he not have any friends? Did anxiety play a role, perhaps? Whatever the reason, Alfred was certain of one thing: he was going to be this boy's, possibly, first friend.

"My name is Alfred," he beamed, "Alfred F. Jones. You wanna be my partner?"

The boy's eyes darted to Alfred for a brief moment, grateful, yet guarded. "Yes, thank you," he said. "It's nice to meet you."

"So, what's your name?"

"I'm Kiku Honda," he softly answered.

"Sweet!" Alfred whooped. After seeing Kiku flinch, however, he came to the conclusion that it would be best to be a little quieter around his new friend.

"So, Kiku, where are you from? You don't look British," he observed.

Kiku wearily sighed, giving the impression that he had been asked this question far too many times in his past. "I am British."

"Where were you born?"

"Glasgow."

Alfred swallowed hard, realizing that he had gotten himself into quite an awkward situation. "I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I just assumed that, since, you know… you don't look British…"

Wincing, Kiku clarified, "My parents are Japanese and Chinese. They moved here before I was born."

"Oh, okay!" This friendship had definitely not taken off on the best foot. Despite this, Alfred was desperate to make it up to him by being the best partner Kiku had ever had.

From the center of the field, Madam Hooch clapped her hands twice. "Okay, has everyone paired up?" After surveying her group of students, she gave a quick nod of her head. "Good. Now, one person out of your group shall stand across from the other. Quickly, please!"

You and Natalia silently agreed that you would be the one to stand across from her. As you took your place a few feet away, Madam Hooch placed a broom directly in front of you, as well as one in front of your partner.

Once the class had organized themselves, the instructor clasped her hands together in satisfaction, a broom at her own feet. "Alright, now, everyone stretch your hand above your broom. Look, focus on it, then once you're ready, say, 'Up!', and your broom will come to you. I will demonstrate."

Madam Hooch opened her palm towards the ground, her brow twitching just the slightest in concentration as she directed her pointed gaze towards the broom. "Up!," she commanded. Just as she promised, the ragged besom zoomed into her fingers. Murmurs of awe and excitement rose from the students. A smile of enthusiasm played on your lips.

"Okay, now you try," she ordered. "Keep in mind that you may not get it on the first try. Be patient, and you should be successful after a few attempts."

Upon her last word, nearly every student in the field began to practice the summoning of their brooms, eager to master their first wizarding technique. A few were clumsy and impatient, simply doing nothing but screaming at their brooms, while most others considered the details in Madam Hooch's demonstration - stance, direction, and concentration. You were part of the latter crowd.

"Up!" you sternly ordered your broom, your mind emptied of everything but thoughts of your current task. The wooden handle slammed into your hand, and instinctively, your fingers curled around it, firmly holding the broom against your palm.

"Great job, Miss [Last Name]!" Madam Hooch praised. You felt a warm surge of pride.

Not long after your accomplishment, Natalia barked "Up!" and successfully summoned her broom. Her stolid gaze wavered to reveal fleeting satisfaction. "That was rather easy."

Given the chance, Alfred would have completely objected to Natalia's statement. He was currently on his seventh attempt, and although he was absolutely certain everything he was doing was correct, he found himself among the last to summon their broom. Frustration began to replace his ebbing concentration.

"Uh, Alfred," Kiku called, his broom already in his hands, "do you need any assistance?"

Not wanting to annihilate any remaining chance of his friendship with Kiku, Alfred forced himself to grin. "It's cool! I can do this," he assured the young Ravenclaw. He was struggling to convince himself of this.

Wiping his sweaty palms on the hem of his cloak, Alfred resumed the correct stance. "UP!" he yelled, directing every ounce of his focus into the order. The broom shot into the air, completely missing his hand and ramming straight into his face. He cried out in shock and pitched backwards onto the ground. Gasps were uttered from various students.

"Mister Jones, are you alright?" Madam Hooch hurried towards the scene and kneeled beside him. With a steady arm around his shoulders, she helped him to sit up. "Are you okay?"

Alfred, dazed, looked around him in utter confusion, the corners of his vision tinged with darkness. His head spun. He took steady, deep breaths to avoid heaving. A rather metallic taste pooled in his mouth.

"I, uh..." The rest of his response dissolved into an awful hacking sound. A tooth landed on the grass next to him, a trickle of blood immediately following afterward.

"Oh my goodness!" Madam Hooch exclaimed. The entire class flinched and looked on in curiosity and concern.

"I'm fine," he insisted, his speech incredibly slurred. "Just a baby tooth. I can do it."

"Oh, no you don't. You're going straight for the infirmary," Madam Hooch declared.

Alfred quickly stood, teetering just the slightest, but otherwise fine. "But I'm okay, really! See, the blood's already going away!"

The flying instructor raised her brow, keeping her watchful eyes trained on the muddled Gryffindor. "Well, alright…" she agreed in a tentative tone. She repositioned Alfred's broom on the ground in front of him. "One more time. Ready when you are, Jones."

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He extended his palm. "UP!" he loudly ordered. The broom, once again, soared directly into his face.

Shaking her head, Madam Hooch crossed her arms. "Mister Jones, maybe you should take a break."

Alfred clenched his hands into fists. "No, I know I can get it!" he cried with newfound determination, despite tiny drops of blood falling onto his red-and-yellow striped tie.

"Up!" he commanded the besom, a hint of desperation in his tone. This time, it barely even moved.

The class snickered, but a deadly glare from their teacher silenced them almost immediately. She turned back to Alfred with a softened gaze.

"Some other kids were also having problems, Alfred," she said encouragingly. "Why don't you continue practicing with others, like Heracles? I know you'll get it eventually."

Nodding, Alfred murmured, "Okay, thanks," and dragged himself off to the other boy who also appeared to be having trouble with it. Due to his well-built, tall appearance, Alfred nearly believed he would have been more convincing as a third-year student. He had an olive complexion and wavy, brown, chin-length hair that nicely framed his features. His black-and-yellow tie indicated that he was a Hufflepuff.

"Hello," Alfred greeted. He was a tad bit quieter than usual, just in case this boy turned out to be sensitive to noise, like Kiku.

Heracles nodded ever-so-softly. His calm, green gaze studied Alfred. "Hey," he replied in a mellow tone.

"So, are you having problems, too?"

"Yeah." Heracles turned away from the Gryffindor and resumed the correct stance. A crease of concentration appeared in his brow. "Up," he murmured to the broom. As expected, it failed to respond.

Alfred instantaneously knew what Heracles' issue was. "Maybe if you raise your voice a bit," he suggested. He focused on his own broom, determined to set an example for Heracles.

"UP!" Alfred cried. Unfortunately, nothing changed from his previous attempts, for it still sped directly into his face. He stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

"Try lowering your voice," the taller boy softly recommended. "Maybe the broom will have a better way of coming towards you, so it won't hit you in the face."

Alfred nearly slapped himself in the face. Why hadn't he thought of that before? "Got it," he declared with a willing nod of his head. He opened his palm towards his broom and flashed an encouraging smile at Heracles. "Okay, together on three. One, two, three!"

"Up!" they simultaneously said. Both besoms lingered on the grass for half a second, then rose into the air, settling perfectly into their open fingers.

" I did it!" Alfred announced, triumphantly leaping into the air. "Woohoo!"

Next to him, Heracles nodded his head. "Cool."

"Let's go!" Alfred beamed, a surge of exhilaration providing him with a boost of energy. He grabbed Heracles hand before he could protest and pulled him towards Madam Hooch. "Missus, Missus! We did it!"

Madam Hooch gave the two of them an encouraging grin. "That's great, boys! Now that you're all caught up, please stand next to those two girls." She gestured towards you and Natalia with a nod of her head. "They're just about to take off."

The moment Alfred realized who he would be next to, his face darkened into a scowl. Even so, he forced himself to set his grudge aside for the good of his grade and took his place beside you. You were just in the midst of reciting a recipe to your partner, however, so you did not notice his presence right away.

"And then, you add the Moonstone powder after the rose thorns," you finished. You were fairly certain that was how it was supposed to go, anyway. It had been a while after you had checked the exact formula for this potion.

"I see," mumbled Natalia.

"But, I'm curious. Why do you want to know how to make a love potion?" you inquired. "I believe there are restrictions concerning its use."

The other girl shrugged. "No reason in particular."

You blinked and curiously studied Natalia's unmoving expression. You weren't normally one to inquire someone's personal intentions, but there was always usually a reason behind one's urge to learn a specific potion, even if it was to satisfy their curiosity. Nevertheless, you decided against asking her any further and turned your attention elsewhere. It just so happened that "elsewhere" was located to your right and happened to include Alfred-freaking-Jones.

"You!" you exclaimed, not bothering to conceal your irritation. "What are you doing here?"

Startled by your sudden outburst, Alfred stuttered, "W-well, what are you doing here, huh!"

Your lip curled. You huffed, "Git," and clenched the dark fabric of your cloak, restraining the urge to turn on your heel and stomp elsewhere.

"Who is that?" Natalia quietly asked.

"Some annoying little bugger."

She shrugged. "Just ignore him."

It was likely a good thing Madam Hooch appeared beside you at that moment, for you were just about to subject Natalia to a long rant about the aggravating Gryffindor. "Alright, girls," she said, "your turn."

The instructor's orotund tone allowed you to recall the given task: gain complete control of your broom and become airborne. "Got it, ma'am."

Walking a little ways away from Natalia to give yourself room to take off, you placed your legs on either side of the broomstick and firmly gripped the handle. Your palms became clammy, and sweat beaded above your brow. Although you had been looking forward to flying more than any other subject in Hogwarts, you couldn't help but feel a wave of tension roll over you.

"It's okay," you muttered under your breath. "I can do this. It'll be fine, right? It's flying, not rocket science!"

"Miss [Last Name]," Madam Hooch called from across the field, "are you alright?"

You flinched and swallowed. "Uh, yes, ma'am!" Knowing that you had only moments to force your brooding anxiety down, you furrowed your brow and dug your nails into the wooden handle. It was now or never!

Every part of your body wanted so desperately to freeze up and become rigid, but you channeled every single bit of your mental and emotional strength into defying it. You firmly stomped on the ground and squeezed your eyes shut. A light breeze tousled your hair and caused your dark cloak to billow around you. The ground disappeared beneath you, though you kept your eyes closed in fear of looking down.

You lingered motionless a few feet above the earth as if dangling from the strings of a puppetmaster, hesitating, waiting for the butterflies in your stomach to disappear.

When your eyes finally opened, the scenery presented before you stole your breath away.

"This is absolutely incredible, " you breathed in awe. The clouds looked like balls of cotton amidst an endless blue yonder - how you wish you could touch them! You leaned forward and picked up speed, your [H/L], [H/C] hair whipping past your face and falling behind your ears. Only when a dull pain surfaced in your cheeks did you come to find that your lips had widened into a bright, genuine beam.

A shrill whistle pierced your moment of repose. You turned your gaze towards the miniature beings scattered among the field. You thought, with amusement, that they appeared to be ants.

"Come on down, Miss [Last name]," Madam Hooch called. Sighing, you gave one last look at the great sky before beginning a gentle descent. You grabbed your broom from beneath you as you felt your weight settle on the earth.

"That wasn't so hard," you huffed. Honestly, you were just glad that you didn't pass out or throw up.

Madam Hooch gave you a pleased grin as she signaled Alfred to take off. "That was very impressive. Keep it up!" You acknowledged her with a nod; you couldn't stop smiling even if you wanted to!

Alfred puffed out his chest and declared with irreverence, "I bet I can do better than her." With the ghost of a smirk on his features, he mounted his broomstick. "Now, see what it looks like when a true hero flies!"

His prideful declaration grabbed the attention of most every student, including Natalia and you. He roughly stomped on the ground, ordering his broom to take flight. Unfortunately for him, his broom did not go up. The entire class watched with bewilderment as Alfred's broom made a ninety-degree turn, zipped up the side of the castle, and threw him into a window.

"MR. JONES!" Madam Hooch cried out, rushing under the broken window. Shards of glass rained down as the Gryffindor tried his best to struggle free.

A laughing epidemic seemed to overtake the students, though Natalia and you remained straight-faced.

"That's going to leave a mark," Natalia commented.

You shook your head in disbelief. How in the world could one person be so arrogant!? "Well, it serves him right," you replied. "He took off with a lot of force - too much force."

The chuckles of your classmates quickly dissolved into groans of annoyance upon hearing that class was to be suspended.

"Well, this is just great." You plopped yourself onto the grass next to Natalia. You allowed your gaze to wander into the icy blue heavens, your pulse quickening with the remembrance of feeling airborne. You couldn't wait to fly again.

-End of Chapter Four-


	5. Chapter 5

Natalia and you were walking along the halls to your next class, the exhilaration from flying still fresh in your system. Despite Alfred having nearly ruined your experience, you weren't so worried about Potions; you had heard rumors that the instructor - Professor Snape - noticeably favored Slytherins over every other house. Natalia and you were just talking about the event that took place last period; truthfully, it was more like she was listening to you, or so you hoped, while you were rambling on about how Alfred was nothing more than a mangy git.

"...And that's not the first time he has ruined something for me," you told her, "and it won't be the last. I can assure you of that." Natalia simply nodded and muttered a faint, _"Okay."_

"Are you even listening to me?!" you interrogated.

Natalia sighed and winced. "Not really," she admitted. "You just keep saying the same things over and over again about that pain-in-the-neck Gryffindor, Alfred."

You huffed your cheeks. "Well, excuse me!" you snapped, crossing your arms. "I can't help that he is such a pain in the a-"

Your defensive response was cut off by a mouthful of thick, black fabric. Gagging, you stumbled back. Your mouth dropped open upon realizing that you had just run into the Potion master, himself. Blood rushed to your cheeks.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked you. His strict, cold voice punctured the light atmosphere.

"Y-yes, sir," you sputtered, bowing your head. "I am truly sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He raised an eyebrow - almost as if this was the first time a student treated him with respect. "Well, hurry on to class, then."

"Actually, I'm on my way to your class," you informed him, addressing him in your most polite tone. This man had an aura that made you feel like you were treading on eggshells.

"Then let's get going," he declared. Without another word, he turned on his heel and started down the corridor. Natalia and you hastily followed.

"It's all in how you first present yourself," you told her, wiping nervous sweat off your brow. Natalia glanced at you, but said nothing in return.

The three of you passed under a low arch into the Potions classroom. Dim candlelight cast shadows along the smooth cobblestone walls of the room. Bookshelves lining the walls were packed to the brim with musty books and scrolls, whilst smaller shelves supported foggy glass bottles of all different shapes and sizes. You wrinkled your nose at the variety of sharp, pungent smells that lingered in the room. Long, dark desks, organized in rows, filled a majority of the space; they faced an elevated platform at the other end of the room you assumed to be where the instructor stood and lectured.

Natalia and you were the first ones to enter the class and mutually chose a seat at the front. As other students arrived and took their places, you realized that one chair remained empty. Snape took notice of the vacancy as well, narrowing his eyes with great annoyance. You wondered which poor student would have to face the professor's wrath for being late - on the first day, no less.

"Welcome to Potions class," Snape began, announcing a quick start to the lesson. "Your time here will be spent learning-"

Footsteps, fast and light, loudly echoed off the corridor's stone flooring, causing many students to turn their heads to the entrance in question. The Potions professor pursed his lips.

Alfred thundered into the room, stopping just short of the archway to bend over and regain his breath. One arm was in a cast, presumably from his flying accident; the other arm barely grasped an assortment of textbooks and folders to his side. You couldn't help but smirk at his disheveled state.

Snape's lip curled as he examined the Gryffindor. "Well, Mister Jones, I should have known it would've been _you_ who would be late to class."

Alfred's face paled at the professor's frigid tone. "S-sorry, sir," he breathed.

"You'd better be sorry." Snape motioned towards the empty chair next to Kiku. "Now, take your seat, Jones." With his head lowered in shame, Alfred dragged himself into his seat. He immediately dropped his books, slumped down, and cradled his injured arm.

The professor scanned the student body. "Now, class," he said, nodding towards Alfred, " _that_ right there is what I will not accept in this classroom."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Alfred demanded, abruptly getting to his feet. A collective gasp was shared among the rest of the students.

Furrowing his brow, Snape trained his ominous gaze on the defiant boy. "What was that, Jones?"

The color immediately drained from Alfred's face. "I-I said, 'What's that supposed to mean'!"

Without another word, Snape took long, dangerous strides towards Alfred - who looked as if he were about to pass out. Kiku reached up and tugged his sleeve, urging him to take his seat before the situation got worse.

"Anything else you would like to get out there before class starts?" Snape inquired, towering over his student.

Alfred gulped and sputtered for a moment before regaining his ability to form a complete sentence. "Y-yeah, actually. I don't think it's very nice how you pinpoint a student just for being late. I will have you know that I was getting arm healed."

Narrowing his eyes, Snape asked, "And why was that?"

"Flying accident," Alfred muttered.

"What happened? Did you fall off a broom?"

"Uh, no-"

Snape slammed his hand on the table, startling the boy a few inches into the air. "Don't lie to me."

"I-I flew into window," Alfred admitted, "while I was taking off." Small, tentative chuckles arose from the student body.

"Quiet!" Snape snapped. Everyone became completely silent.

"That's more like it." Taking a deep breath, Snape left Alfred's side and walked to the front of the room. "Welcome to Potions class. I will not have anyone in here who doesn't take this class seriously. Are we understood!"

"Yes, sir," the class murmured in unison, exchanging nervous glances with one another. Alfred silently sat back down in his seat; he looked like he had seen death.

"Great. Please take out 'Magical Drafts and Potions'," Snape commanded. He produced a short piece of chalk and scrawled the designated page number on the blackboard.

You hauled the thick book onto your table and and turned to the assigned passage: _'Cure for Boil'_. From skimming through the text, you realized you already knew the recipe; your mother was keen on giving you a head start on your studies over the summer before coming to Hogwarts.

"Okay, now please read the ingredients and instructions right as it says in the book," Snape instructed. He read aloud, " _'Being an effective remedy against pustules, hives, boils and many other scrofulous conditions. This is a robust potion of powerful character. Care should be taken when brewing. Prepared incorrectly this potion has been known to cause boils, rather than cure them.'_

"Make sure to follow the directions _exactly_. If you do it correctly, it should turn pink." Snape glared at Alfred. "Hopefully, we shouldn't have any problems."

Upon the professor's queue, the class eagerly got to work brewing the potion.

Natalia asked, "So, what are the ingredients?"

"We will need dried nettles, six snake fangs, four horned slugs, two porcupine quills, pungous onions, flobberworm mucus, ginger root, and shrake spines," you recited, glancing at the book to confirm your memory.

While the two of you searched the raw materials in front of you and began preparing the magical solution according to the book, Alfred decided to wing it. He dumped every single ingredient in the kettle without a thought - unconcerning of the fact that he was required to mash them to nice flour consistency. Kiku grimaced and stared into the bottom of the cauldron.

"Alfred, is this it?" he asked, trying his absolute best not to be rude towards him.

Alfred replied with a confident, "Yeah, dude, I totally know what i'm doing!"

"Then… We are done for now."

"Awesome!" Alfred fist-pumped the air. "Okay, now what do we do?"

Kiku squinted at the text. "We wait thirty-three to forty-five minutes."

"What! But that's too long!" Alfred complained, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "That's gonna take up the rest of the class."

"Alfred, we need to wait," Kiku insisted. He pointed at the book. "The recipe calls for that exact amount of time."

"Unless we turn up the heat."

A blatant look of worry crossed the smaller boy's features. "Alfred, no."

"What's the worst that could happen!" Alfred proclaimed in excitement. Without hesitation, he turned the dial on the burner to maximum heat.

"Alfred, don't!" Kiku cried, reaching over to reset the temperature - but the damage was already done. With an earsplitting bang, the cauldron cracked, causing the potion to splash onto Alfred's face. He loudly hissed in pain as it began burning his skin. The rest of the class stared in bewilderment as they witnessed big, ugly, pussed-filled boils erupt on his face. You cringed and covered your mouth.

"Mister Jones," Snape barked, rushing to his side. He surveyed the damage. "What in the Devil's name happened to you?"

"It exploded in my my face," Alfred wailed. Snape inspected the state of the cauldron and disapprovingly clicked his tongue.

"Mister Jones, did you turn the heat up?"

"Yes," Alfred sniffled. "Why?"

Snape's features immediately darkened. "Mister Jones, I said to follow the recipe _exactly_! Now look what you've done." He turned to the trembling Ravenclaw next to Alfred. "Kiku, escort him to the hospital wing."

As Kiku took a whimpering Alfred by the sleeve and escorted him out of the room, Snape gave the students one last word: "Take a mental note, class. This is what happens when you don't follow the directions. Ten points from Gryffindor."

An uproar of protest came forth from every Gryffindor just as the large bells of the striking clock sounded, signaling the end of the hour. Snape dismissed the class, rubbing his temples and grumbling, "I was a fool to have thought I would be done with troublesome Gryffindors."

-End of Chapter Five-


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